At the pond the day winds down. Along the bank, a mass of tender greens, lush beneath delicate parasols of lacy white. A member of the family Apiaceae, first cousin to the wild carrots and dills and parsleys,
and the universe of the larval Black Swallowtail.
Eggs laid and hatched, and few weeks worth of delicate foliage devoured, the larvae are nearly prepared to depart this little world.
Such exquisite ephemera.
What do we make of a life so beautifully brief?
Three generations elapsed in a single passage of our little globe around its sun.
One fleeting moment. To be born, to live, to die.
Time perhaps for an acquaintance or two.
Another day nearly done.